


Family Resemblance

by kittyorange



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, Outsider Perspective, The Mymble and the Joxter are mentioned but they aren't involved, basically snufkin meets the woodies the way he did in moominvalley but there's 24 of them, cherrypicking from canon sources, musings on Snufkin's heritage, theres some implied moomin/snufkin but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyorange/pseuds/kittyorange
Summary: Moominpappa muses on Snufkin's heritage, and Snufkin brings the woodies down to visit Moominhouse.





	Family Resemblance

When Moominpappa had first met Snufkin, his first thought was about how very much the young man resembled his friend the Joxter. “Well now,” he had thought, “My son has found himself his own little vagabond, just as I did in my youth!” And he felt a certain kind of pride, that his son should be so much like him. 

Of course, as he got to know Snufkin, he considered this comparison less and less. Often it happens that one meets a person who reminds them in every bit of someone else; yet as one gets to know the person better they realize that the two differ completely. So too did Moominpappa’s perception of Snufkin color over time, until he was an entirely different creature from his old friend.

Certainly, they both had a hatred for authority figures or rules of any kind, but Snufkin was usually agreeable to requests people made of him. When Moominmamma asked him to wash his hands before eating with them, he did so without much complaint; in fact he clearly made an effort to follow the social conventions of all the places he’d traveled, provided those conventions weren’t directly contrary to his personal beliefs. Those he respected could usually count on him for a favor, and if he could not abide by whatever they asked of him, he simply politely excused himself. It wasn’t that Snufkin wished to avoid conflict, as his frequent altercations with park keepers and local police forces evidenced-- he simply didn’t seek it out. Trouble happened around him, instead. The Joxter, on the other hand, enjoyed being contrary for its own sake. Always sticking his head where it wasn’t welcome, always antagonizing those who would seek to be his friend.

Then there was the matter of how they formed attachments. Moominpappa had never said this particular thought out loud-- he had a feeling Snufkin wouldn’t like it very much-- but for a person who despises possessions and who boasts of his own freedom as frequently as Snufkin does, he certainly formed some deep attachments. He was attached to his wanderlust; he left every winter like clockwork. He was certainly attached to Moomintroll as well, because he returned every spring in the same fashion. From what his son had told him, he was also quite attached to the sea. The Joxter never formed the same kind of attachments. He enjoyed wandering, but was perfectly content to settle down in one cozy spot for as long as it was comfortable. The only thing he had some measure of commitment to was being contrary, and even then the drive to disobey would always take a backseat to the Joxter’s laziness. 

Yes, the two really were quite different. So while Moominpapa wondered, sometimes, whether the two might be related, he never considered the thought very deeply. 

\---

 

It was a lazy summer day when Snufkin approached Moominhouse with a rather odd request.

“Children?” exclaimed Moominpappa, “Why, Snufkin, I wasn’t even aware you’d met a woman!” At that, Moominmamma turned to him with sharp eyes and jabbed him in the side, and Moominpappa realized that may not have been the right thing to say. 

Snufkin, for his part, looked entirely confused, as if he couldn’t quite place how one would imply the other. Understanding quickly dawned on him, however, and he explained:

“No, there is no woman! The woodies are orphans I adopted.”

“More like he stole them! From that nasty old Hemulen who used to run that park!” Little My interjected. “I was wondering if you’d kept contact with them, you deadbeat father you!”

Snufkin simply took a long drag from his pipe in response. When he finished, he explained: “The Hemulen lady who has been watching over them would like to visit with her family, so she needs me to watch them for a week. And, well, when I visit them I tell them so many stories about Moominhouse, they’ve been begging me to take them here sometime. They should be able to camp out with me while they’re here-- woodies are made to be outdoors, after all-- but they will certainly like to visit at least, and if the weather turns it would be reassuring to know they can spend the night in a real house,”

“Why, Snufkin, it is quite unlike you to be so pragmatic,” Moominmamma praised, “Of course we would love to have your little woodies over,” she looked around at the rest of the family, “Isn’t that right, everyone?”

“Why not? Can’t be much different from my mother’s house,” Little My laughed.

“I’d love to see your children again, Snufkin!” Moomintroll said, taking Snufkin’s paws in his own. Snufkin gave a relieved smile in turn, and gently removed his paws from the grasp. Moomin dropped his own arms as if he’d been burned. 

“Do they still ah, mimic you? Like they did when we first met them?” he attempted to recover. 

“They do, but they’re getting old enough that individual personalities are shining through,” Snufkin chuckled fondly, “That makes them even more of a handful, though.”

“I was hardly even a day old when _I_ started causing mischief,” Little My boasted.

Moominmamma chuckled, “Well we can hardly all be as self assured as you are, My. Now come, if we are to have so many little guests, we must start getting the house ready.”

The rest of the Moomin family groaned.

\---

Hardly a week went by, and Snufkin returned to Moominvalley with twenty-four little woodies in tow. They tried to cling to Snufkin however they could, grasping onto his coat, his boots, his tail. Some of the smaller ones were lucky enough to find a perch on his shoulder or his hat, and some he even carried underarm. Moominmamma had found a lovely tarp for him to spread out by his campsite, that they all might be able to sleep together under the stars without worrying about the cold from the damp earth. This was where he set them down so he could lecture them before they went into Moominhouse.

“Now, you must be careful to wipe your feet before you go indoors, and you must ask the Moomins before you take anything to play with. Listen to what the Moomins tell you, but above all listen to your own good sense. If Little My tricks you into some naughtiness I won’t take pity on you!”

They all listened with quiet intensity. Snufkin was glad that out of all the little beings who could have imprinted upon him, he happened upon such an obedient group. If they were twenty-four creatures like Little My, now that would be something. Then again, he supposed, there weren’t any other creatures in the world like Little My.

“Well then,” Snufkin stood up once more, “Are we ready to go inside?”

As if a spell had been broken on the little children, all of them began to cheer at once, “Yes!” “Yes of course!” “Oh, please let us go!” Snufkin only laughed in response, and led the way to the door. The woodies again followed him, jumping and skipping about in excitement.

\---

Having the woodies over was not nearly as bad as having the Mymble’s children, Moominpappa thought to himself. The children were for the most part rather quiet. They had no penchant for setting traps around the house, for stringing up and humiliating any unfortunate Moomin who crossed their path. Indeed they were quite the refreshing change from the gaggle of rambunctious children the Mymble toted along on her travels, but this did not mean they were not unnerving.

Rather than mischief, the curious little creatures seemed to mostly enjoy following people around. Moominpappa had been quite surprised to turn around and see a small herd of children wordlessly trailing him to his study. Apparently, they took turns following each member of Moominhouse-- with the exception of Moomintroll, who was out with Snufkin catching fish for the little ones’ dinner-- and they only occasionally asked questions about certain things’ purpose around the house. Moominmamma noticed that they seemed to particularly enjoy watching methodical tasks, and that they were all quick to mimic the motions behind them. No sooner had she realized this than she set about giving them all simple chores to perform, and they seemed to delight in being helpful. The day’s chores were completed in record time. 

Little My was in the process of convincing the woodies to stack themselves into a tower so she could reach the chandelier when Snufkin and Moomintroll returned. As soon as they stepped through the door, the half-built tower of children toppled over on itself, and all of the woodies scrambled immediately their father’s side. Moominpappa had never seen the group so lively. They must really admire Snufkin.

And indeed, each was in competition to tell Snufkin of the day’s events first, to show off the new skills the Moominfamily had taught them. “Settle down, settle down children!” he began, but they were already climbing the front of his frock, gabbing excitedly about their day. He was utterly unprepared for all the extra weight, and like a great tree overburdened by snow, he tipped over, his hat flying into the air. Moomintroll helpfully caught it.

The poor mumrik was so covered by children one could hardly see him. Moomin placed Snufkin’s hat onto his own head and bent down, scooping up as many woodies as his arms could hold to free his friend. And then, suddenly, he stopped, as a new sound cut through the little creatures’ chattering.

Snufkin was _laughing._

He lifted up the last of the children sitting on his chest and sat up again. “Well now,” he spoke warmly, setting the little ones back on the floor, “it sounds like you lot have had quite the adventure. Why don’t you wash up, and you can tell me all about it over dinner?”

The woodies nodded dutifully, and rushed away to get themselves washed. Free from the little burdens on his legs, Snufkin stood all the way back up and turned to Moomin, who was still stricken quite dumb. He gingerly picked his hat back from the troll’s head and placed it on his own.

“Thank you, Moomin,” he smiled, still glowing from the laughter.

Moomin coughed quietly, “No… No problem at all, Snuff.”

“We caught quite a lot,” Snufkin addressed Moominmamma, now, “littler ones, mostly. Probably best for a soup or stew.”

Moominmamma nodded, “That will be easier to divide amongst everyone as well. Good job, boys!”

They took the fish into the kitchen and set about preparing them. The stew was not quite finished by the time the woodies returned, but Moominmamma was unwilling to let them assist in the cooking as she had the other chores. They were far too small to be trusted with knives, and there were far too many of them to supervise. Instead they watched as Snufkin and Mamma prepared, clustering themselves between their father’s legs and the counter. They took turns telling Snufkin their favorite detail from the day, and between the twenty-four of them, they summarized the whole thing quite neatly. As the children wrapped up their stories, Moominmamma announced that the stew was very nearly done, and that she wouldn’t need any more help. Snufkin led the woodies back to the table and took a seat.

The woodies definitely preferred clinging on Snufkin to anything else, but there were a few children who couldn’t quite fit. They must have deemed Moomintroll a suitable enough replacement, however, because they climbed all over his lap and shoulders as well. Moomintroll seemed absolutely delighted to entertain them. It helped, Moominpappa was sure, that they all shared a favorite subject.

“Do you know how your father and I first met? It was quite the adventure,” Moomintroll spoke in a hushed tone, as if he were sharing precious gossip.

“No, no!” the children cried from his lap, “He’s never told us!”

“He’s never told you! I can’t believe it!” he gasped in exaggerated disbelief. 

“I was saving such a good story for the proper time,” Snufkin explained, unbothered by the teasing, “but since it was really your adventure, Moomin, why don’t you tell it? You’ve gotten quite good at storytelling, I’ve heard.” Moominpappa chuckled to himself at that. Storytelling ran in their family, of course.

Even the children who had clustered around Snufkin shifted their attention to Moomin then. “I want to hear!” they pleaded, “Oh, please tell us!” 

“Maybe….” Moomintroll scratched his chin, “After dinner. If you’re good.” The woodies all nodded fervently.

“If you little ones want to be helpful,” Moominmamma suggested, “you could go help Little My set everything up for dinner.” And the children all rushed off at once. 

They had decided to eat outside, as it was the only place they could easily accommodate such a large group. Before they all sat down, Snufkin quickly explained everything the woodies needed to know about table manners, and they obviously did their very best to obey. Aside from a few mishaps with insects and mud at the table, and a bit of mischief involving the napkins-- mostly inspired by Little My, but Snufkin scolded those involved nonetheless-- they behaved admirably. They even helped clean the dishes afterwards. Once everything was tidied up, the woodies all looked to Moomintroll, waiting to hear his verdict on whether they had been good enough.

“Alright, you lot,” Moomintroll finally declared, “Everyone gather around, and I will tell you the story about when the comet came to Moominvalley.”

The woodies arranged themselves around his feet, bouncing in their excitement. To everyone’s surprise, Snufkin plopped on the ground across Moomintroll as well, gathering up bundles of his children into his lap. They squeaked in delight and made themselves comfortable in the folds of his frock.

“I’d like to hear how you tell it,” Snufkin explained when Moomin gave him a peculiar look.

\---

Moominpappa had wondered, sometimes, whether Snufkin perhaps had any relation to his childhood friend the Joxter. Seeing Snufkin, lap piled with as many children as could physically fit, laughing along with Moomintroll’s tale-- he was certain of it. Not because the mumrik looked particularly like his father, no.

Because, in that moment, Snufkin looked remarkably like The Mymble. 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to aloserkid for being my beta!!! And wackytackysocks for inviting me to ao3 so I could post this, y'all are the real mvps <333


End file.
